A Guranteed Death
by gagiaga
Summary: A Cato/Katniss fanfic: Katniss angers Cato before the games, and now she has one more thing to worry about in the arena. "Have I just guranteed my death?"
1. Chapter 1

I slash around uselessly at the dummy with the sword, wishing that I could be training with my beloved bow and arrow, the only weapon that I am truly comfortable with. Actually, I wish that I could be back at home in the woods, hunting with Gale, no Hunger Games to worry about, but I know that wish won't come true. Thinking of District 12 makes me even more homesick. But Haymitch told me not to show my talent in front of all the other tributes, and even though he's a useless mentor, I think that he might have a point. I figured that I might as well try to work with a weapon that is almost certainly going to be in the Cornucopia. Still, I hope that I impress the Game makers tomorrow, enough for them to put a bow and arrow into the arena. With my favourite weapon, my chances of survival would rocket up. All I can do now is hope.

A low chuckle coming from behind me makes me spin around and drop the too heavy hilt of the sword onto my left foot. I curse under my breath.

"Language, District 12", the chuckler says, still smirking. It's Cato, the monstrous boy from District 2. He's the biggest career this year, and probably the deadliest, strongest, most powerful tribute. I've seen him at the wrestling station, and one thing is certain: I will be avoiding him in the arena at all costs. Any close encounter with him in the arena would mean my certain death. With those muscles, he could snap me in half like a twig in hand to hand combat. I gulp, banishing that thought from my head. Instead, I snap at him.

"My name is Katniss, not District 12. What do you want, District 2?''

He saunters forward, and picks the sword up from the ground. He twirls it around like it's an extension of his body.

"Came here to show off, did we, now?" I ask, and look around the training centre. Nobody's paying attention to us, apart from the other tribute from District 2. I think her name is Clove. She eyes us warily, but then seems to get bored and goes back to throwing knives. I can't help but think how good she is at that. I turn my attention back to Cato.

"I just came here to show you how it's done" he replies cockily, and pushes me out of the way. I start to protest, but he's already started slicing at the dummies. Arms, legs, heads and hearts- nothing is safe from the sharp silvery blade of the knife. It makes me uneasy just watching him- he really is a killing machine.

"Impressed, huh, District 12?" Cato says and I realise that I've been watching him with my mouth wide open. I snap my mouth shut, aware of the warmth creeping up to my face. Cato looks at me, and I can tell that he thinks of me as no competition whatsoever. To him, a Career tribute, I'm nothing more than a distraction, someone that's good at nothing, someone to kill off before the real fun in the arena begins. Right now, all I want to do is show him that I do have a talent. I know that I shouldn't be getting this irritated, but it's no use. Haymitch's warning words ring in my head:

"Don't show anyone what you're good at, sweetheart. Leave it for the Game makers."

But I brush them aside, and I'm over at the archery station before you can say 'Career tribute'.

"You think that's impressive?" I shout over to Cato, and he raises his eyebrow in disbelief. I'll show you, I think. I pick up the bow, stroking it's smooth, sleek surface, so different from the roughly carved wooden one I use back at home, but it will have to do. I select a simple looking arrow, load the bow, and Bam. Bulls eye. I hit it every single time I try.

When I've 'killed' all of the dummies, I look up and see Peeta staring at me quizzically. I ignore him, and turn back to Cato with a winning smile on my face. I can see the shock register on his face, but only for a moment, because it's soon replaced with his trademark smirk, and now, his expression is one of amusement. He walks towards me as I'm putting the bow away, and when I turn back around, Cato is standing right in front of me. He moves forward, and I'm forced to move back, back into the bow and arrow stand. I can feel the edge of the bow pressing into my back. Cato puts his enormous hands onto my shoulders, trapping me, and his presence makes me nervous. Thank goodness it's illegal to kill a tribute before the games begin, I think to myself.

"Not bad…" Cato starts.

"…for a District 12" he finishes off.

His comment makes me so angry, for some reason. That he still thinks all District 12's are useless makes my blood boil. All of a sudden, I feel very protective of my district.

I muster all the strength I have and push Cato off of me and slap him hard in the face. I've obviously

caught him off guard because before he can retaliate, two trainers rush towards us and push me and Cato apart.

"Don't you dare insult my district!" I shout at Cato. I know that all of the tributes are staring at us, but I don't really care.

"Miss Everdeen, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down", one of the trainers says in a calm voice.

"Fine. I'm sorry, okay.", I retort, because I don't want them to punish me for this. The trainers look at us, and then deciding that everything's okay, they walk away back to their stations.

Cato glares at me.

"I'm going to get you for that, District 12. You mark my words. We're going to have a lot of fun in the arena."

Then, he walks away towards the girl called Clove, and I'm left thinking, have I just guaranteed my death?


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hi guys, thanks to those of you that reviewed, and to those of you who put this fanfic on their story alert/favourite story section.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games trilogy, that belongs to the wonderful Suzanne Collins.**

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"_I'm going to get you , District 12!" I can hear Cato shout, and his words stick in my head._

_I run through the undergrowth, tree branches tearing at my body, leaves sticking in my hair, and even though I sprint on, I know that it's no use. Any way that I run, I'm running to my death._

"_Hello, District 12." the rough voice says. I look around, and there he is- walking towards me, arrogant, calm, deadly- with an sword swinging from side to side in his hand._

_My heart is racing in my chest, and I breathe heavily, trying to move, but instead, I sink down to the mossy ground with my back against a tree. _

_A tree!_

_I can climb- Gale's compared me to a squirrel before, the way I scamper upwards into the highest branches. It takes enormous effort to get up, but I do it, and I'm already climbing up into safety when something catches my ankle and slams me down onto the forest floor._

_All of a sudden, I feel a crushing weight on my chest, and I realise that Cato is sitting on me, straddling my legs, with his chest pressed against mine. I flail around wildly with my arms, but he takes them in one of his hands- it's eerie how small my hands are compared to his- and pins them down hard onto the ground behind my head in a very uncomfortable position._

_He lifts the blade of the sword up to my neck with his free hand, and all I can think is, _I'm going to die.

"_I told you I would get you, District 12" he whispers, and presses the blade of the sword into my neck. Soon enough, I feel droplets of warm blood sliding their way down my skin._

_I cant think of anything to say, so I simply stare at him, wishing for him to get my death over and done with._

"_And now here we are, with you completely at my mercy…"_

_Suddenly, I'm very aware of where our bodies are touching- I can feel his chest rise heavily as he breathes in and out, in and out, and I can feel his heart beating through his jacket, reminding me that my soon to be killer is human._

_That doesn't stop me from hating him._

_Then, done with talking, he lifts the sword up, and I feel pain, blinding pain that doesn't enable me to think, or breathe, or live. I scream and scream but he won't stop, he keeps digging the blade into my flesh, carving grotesque patterns into my body._

_But then, he does stop, and I can feel him pull my head into his lap. Stroking my hair, he whispers, his voice strangely gentle, not like him at all._

"_Katniss, Katniss, it's alright, it's just a dream. You're safe, Katniss. Katniss." he keeps repeating._

My eyes snap open.

"P-Peeta?" I say, for the person whose lap I'm lying in is not Cato. He has the same blonde hair, tousled, and the same blue eyes, but this boy's eyes are so much kinder, so gentle and safe and warm. They are not the eyes of the killing machine that I know will haunt my dreams at night. Although I doubt that there are many nights that I have left.

"Yes, Katniss. I'm here, and you're safe. It was just a dream."

"But Cato was there, and he was killing me, and we were in the arena already, and- it was so real!" I babble uselessly.

"No, Katniss, it wasn't real." He turns to look at me. "I heard you screaming from my room, so I went in here to comfort you. Will you be alright now?"

I nod, and he lets go of me, leaving me on the sweat-drenched bed.

"I need to have a shower" I say to him before he leaves the room.

When I hear the door shut, I rush into the bathroom, ripping my nightgown off along the way. I press a random button in the shower, and let the warm water massage my back as I try to calm down. I can't believe that I let Cato get to me this way- after all, it was just a single comment, just a way of intimidating me. Well, it certainly worked.

If only I hadn't shown him my archery skills, if only I hadn't yelled at him, if only I hadn't slapped him in the face… I know that I regret what I did in the training centre, but I also know that it's no use, thinking what I should and shouldn't have done. There are going to be 24 of us in the arena, and chances are, someone is going to kill me before he can. Or maybe- and I know that it's very unlikely, but still- maybe he'll die before he can get to me.

I turn my thoughts to Peeta, and even though I know that I should be grateful for him waking me from my nightmare, I can't help but feel suspicious of the boy with the bread. After all, why would he try to comfort me if we're going to be fighting to death in the arena in two days' time? Peeta Mellark seems kind and caring- but those types of people are very dangerous in the games. You start to trust them, form an alliance, and then earn a knife in your back while you're sleeping. I've seen alliances broken in this way many times in the games, friend turning on friend, the person on watch killing their allies at night and then running away from the scene of crime, only to find themselves very much dead when they run into a career pack. All of these examples have brought me to one conclusion- I will not be forming any alliances in the Hunger Games.

I hear a knock at the door, and then sigh as Effie's Capitol- accented voice rings through the thin walls.

"Katniss Everdeen, breakfast started half an hour ago. We are all waiting for you, and I expect to see you in the dining room as soon as possible!" I can hear the irritation in her voice, and I know that she can't stand lateness or any other form of inappropriate behaviour. I hear Effie mumbling something about manners all the way down the corridor.

I decide that it's pointless to irritate her further, so I switch off the shower and get dressed in a simple black tunic and leggings that has been laid out on my bed. When I walk into the dining room, Effie stares at me, obviously resisting the urge to say something rude. Strangely, it's Haymitch who speaks first.

"Finally joined us, have you, sweetheart?" he says, already filling his crystal glass up to the brim with a clear white liquid that I assume to be alcohol.

"I'm sorry, after an endless dream of being killed by a career tribute, I slept in a little bit." I snap back.

That shut him up.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur- Effie trying to teach me proper Capitol etiquette, how to talk like a lady, how to walk in six inch high heels, and Haymitch trying to decide on what angle what work best for me in the interviews, only to give up when he realises that I'm not sexy, entertaining, mysterious or charming. When he says that I have about as much charm as a dead slug, I decide that I've had enough. Storming out of the room, I slam the door (only to hear Effie shout "That is mahogany!" from the other room) and run out onto the balcony- the only place in the training centre where I don't feel suffocated.

As I'm about to sit down onto a bench, a hand clamps itself around my mouth and pulls me back into the shadows.

I turn my head around, and find myself looking into Cato's eyes.

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**AN: I don't actually have any idea where this story is going, so feel free to give me any suggestions in the reviews, it would help me a lot.**

**And I've decided to change the events round a little bit so that I have freedom to write about things that could have happened without repeating what was in the book, and I'm using some of the quotes and references from the film, so please don't kill me for using the That is mahogany! line differently that in the film.**


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